Valhalla
by Lady Jeweleyes
Summary: Critical feedback welcome...The water's not working at Leon's apartment... So he asks to use D's shower.


Detective Leon Orcot sighed heavily and jiggled the doorknob back and forth, trying to dislodge the key to his apartment. It had been another long, long day. His shift had started with the burden of a full inbox and almost intelligible paperwork, and had ended with the frustrating process of trying to get information from a teenage coke-fiend about a stabbing in one of the area's seedier districts. After work, Leon had hit the gym, but hadn't found the motivation to do more than a few minutes on the treadmill.  
The lock finally relented, and Leon shoved the door open, stepping over an unwashed pile of laundry. It certainly wasn't an inviting place, Leon thought as he flicked on the florescent lights and set his gym bag down on his bed. Dirty dishes cluttered the sink, and unopened mail occupied the plywood dining table/nightstand. Through crooked Venetian blinds, dark clouds massed, adding to the gloom of the apartment.  
Leon's stomach growled, he pulled open his fridge, and sorted through the half-empty soda bottles and various Tupperware containers. Bending over, he reached for the bottom shelf and pulled out a Styrofoam takeout plate from the local deli. After he critically inspected the week-old sandwich, Leon decided he wasn't that hungry after all.  
Reaching his arms over his head, Leon stretched and yawned. A muscle in his lower back twinged suddenly and he winced, rubbing the sore area.  
Gettin' old… Leon thought as he pulled his wrinkled tee shirt up over his head. I need a long, hot shower.  
Carelessly, he threw the sweat-stained garment onto his "to be washed sooner or later" pile of clothing, and padded into his bathroom, stripping off his jeans and boxer shorts. He pulled aside the mildewed curtain and stepped into the grime-coated tub, resolving to clean it sometime within the next year.  
Closing his eyes, Leon turned the faucet knobs and titled his head back, waiting for the spray of warm water. Instead, the pipes groaned, and ice-cold rust colored liquid belched out of the shower head and into his face. Leon gasped and lurched backwards, clawing the ooze away from his eyes. Swearing stridently, Leon climbed out of the tub and grabbed the nearest towel and blotted the soiled water from his face. Experimentally, he turned on the sink's tap and sat down on the toilet, watching the metallic water flow for several minutes.  
Resigned, Leon picked up his phone and dialed the landlord's office number. Over the years, the apartment had been prone to multiple problems, including crumbling drywall and faulty electric circuits, but the relatively low rent had made living there just bearable enough. The phone rang and rang, and then the landlord's answering machine clicked on, demanding his name, apartment number, and a short message. Leon gave a terse reply, and slammed the phone down.  
A headache was beginning to form in Leon's temples as he considered his options. He desperately needed to find a shower that wasn't squirting muck, but he didn't know who to ask. He considered calling Jill, and his mind wandered, to a scenario where he showed up unannounced at her door, suave and collected, with a bottle of wine in hand. Jill would answer the door, wearing nothing but a pink teddy, and gladly invite him in. Leon considered, Jill lived by herself, didn't she? In his mind, he added a lesbian lover, a redhead, or possibly an African-American woman, curvy in all the places Jill was slim. Who is it, baby? She would ask, and Jill would respond This is Leon, the hero of our police force, and a fine example of manhood. The lover would lick her lips, and both she and Jill would gaze at Leon with lust in their eyes. You, me, Jill, in the shower, now! She'd say, and…  
Harsh reality barged its way into Leon's thoughts. He remembered that Jill was on vacation for the next week, gone to visit her parents in Wisconsin.

Damn! Leon stood up and pulled his jeans on again, feeling the material stretching uncomfortably over his half-erection. That left one other person Leon could ask to use shower facilities, and Leon sure as hell didn't feel comfortable about it. He visualized Count D's face, his shining ebony hair and odd eyes, the perpetually self-satisfied expression. At least it would give Leon an excuse to see his brother Chris. Sighing, put on his sweaty tee, emptied his gym bag and packed the cleanest shirt and jeans he could find, before exiting the apartment and storming bad temperedly out to his car.

A warm drizzle was starting to fall as Leon stood outside Count D's petshop and pounded on the door. A small sign informed him that the store was closed and would reopen during regular business hours. Finally he heard the latch click and a gold eye peered out through a small window. "Mr. Detective" D opened the door and let Leon in. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at this hour?" A strange expression crossed the Count's face and he took a small step backwards, far too polite to make a comment about Leon's body odor,

A small body hurtled past D and wrapped Leon's legs in an enthusiastic hug. "Hi, big bro!" Chris grinned. Leon returned the smile and ruffled Chris's blond hair. "How ya doing, kid?"

Chris grimaced and bounced away from Leon, holding his sleeve up to his nose. "Phew! You stink!" D frowned "Chris, that is not a very nice thing to say." He said sternly.

"Sorry" Chris shrugged, "but he really does smell bad." He added, with a child's honesty.

"Which brings me to why I'm here." Leon hefted his gym bag, and looked sideways at Count D, avoiding eye contact. "Water's out in my piece of shit apartment, and I really need to take a shower. Wouldn't normally ask but I'm desperate. But not desperate enough to use the prison showers… wouldn't want to drop the soap, heh…" Leon trailed off weakly, failing to get a reaction out of the Count. "You do have a shower, don't you?"

"Of course", D replied, somewhat huffily. "I have seen your apartment, Detective. I'm surprised that you have one." Chris giggled, and Leon shot his brother a look.

D turned and walked back into the pet shop's parlor, and Leon trailed behind. "I don't normally allow people to use my private quarters, but if you really must…" the Count sighed heavily, implying great patience and suffering. _I might as well be asking for him to retrieve all the gold from Fort Knox. _Leon thought sourly.

D led Leon away from the central part of what Leon thought as the store, and down a narrow hallway paneled with dark cherry wood. Leon looked around alertly, searching for some vital clue that would help him to prosecute, and finally jail Count D. Closed doors lined the impossibly long passage, and between the portals hung ornate tapestries. The smell of some musky, earthy incense hung heavy in the air.

Finally D stopped and pointed at a huge set of double doors inlaid with an abstract silver animal, a wolf or dog of some sort, Leon figured. "The bathroom is through there." D said. "Please put everything back where you find it."

Leon put his hand on the door latch, then turned as a sudden thought hit him. "Wait, do I…" he said, but D had already vanished. Leon shrugged and turned the latch, and the doors swung slowly inwards.


End file.
